


Letters from a Friend

by erenee228



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, Mutual Pining, Romance, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erenee228/pseuds/erenee228
Summary: After the death of her father, Byleth begins receiving letters from an anonymous sender. Determined to find out who's behind them, Byleth ends up more confused than ever as things don't seem to be matching up.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	Letters from a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Found a note I had made a while back about this storyline and felt inspired to finally sit down and crank it out. I hope you enjoy!

Jeralt’s death is shocking and so sudden that Byleth barely has time to react. When she does, she calls on Sothis, begging her to send her back. Ultimately, this helps nothing. Monica – Kronya, succeeds again in stabbing him and Jeralt falls before her eyes for the second time.

His last words to her reverberate in her head and nothing else seems to make sense. Everything after Jeralt breathes his last breath is a blur. She vaguely recalls it starting to rain and one of her students carrying her to her room, but she can’t even remember who.

The days and night blur together in her dark room. The curtains are drawn and she hasn’t moved from her bed since she was brought here. Mercedes and Annette stop by regularly to bring her food and check in on her, but don’t linger, respecting her desire to be alone. Her other students don’t visit, which doesn’t bother her, because she knows they’re just trying to give her space.

Some days are better than others, but not by much. She often has nightmares and half the time she can’t tell if she’s awake or in a dream state. There’s a fog that’s settled over her and she can’t seem to escape its depressing depths. 

* * *

She hears a knock on her door that seems out of place. She deciphers that it’s morning, but it seems too early for breakfast and she waits to hear Mercedes or Annette call out to her, but no one speaks. She hears the shuffle of the person on the other side of the door and watches curiously as an envelope is pushed under her door. The person seems to hesitate for a second before their footsteps carry them away and fade into the distance.

She stares at the envelope, uncertain what to do, until for the first time in what feels like forever her head begins to clear. The fog seems to fade as she comprehends that something new and unexpected has happened to break the repetitive cycle she’s been in for the who knows how long.

Curiosity her driving force, she gets out of bed, shuffling toward where the envelope lays on the floor. It’s cream-colored, blank, and she carries it with her back to bed.

Upon opening it, she finds a folded piece of parchment addressed to her. The penmanship is unfamiliar, elegant and slanted in a way Byleth has never seen before from any of her students.

_Professor,_

_I want to first start by saying how sorry I am for what happened to your father. Although I didn’t know him very well, we could all see how close you were and how much he meant to you. He was an incredible mercenary, and I’m sure an even more impressive father._

_This must be incredibly hard for you and I wish there was something that the others and I could do. You’re a wonderful professor and have taught us a lot, not only about combat, but also about dealing with the many problems that have occurred in our personal lives. You’ve especially taught me a lot and have made me feel truly seen and appreciated. Thank you for that._

_We love you and want you to know that we are patiently waiting for you whenever you’re ready to come back. Take your time, as we understand how painful this situation has been, and we look forward to your presence and lessons in the future._

_Take care,_

_A Friend_

Byleth rereads the letter one, two, three times, letting the words sink in. And then she cries. The tears fall as she thinks of her father and the unfairness of his death, but also as she thinks of her students who have been so patient and understanding during this time. They deserve so much better than a professor who isn’t capable of dealing with her emotions.

She misses them, she realizes. She misses the clear sky above the Monastery, and the gentle lapping of the pond, and the voices of her students calling out to her. She decides that maybe she is finally ready to go back.

* * *

She gives herself two more days to recharge and put herself back together a bit. She cleans her room, washes herself, and organizes her lesson plans for the coming week. It feels good to be doing something familiar and keeps her mind busy and away from the depressing thoughts that linger on the edges.

Mercedes and Annette still stop by to bring her food, and she can’t help but chuckle at the look of surprise on their faces when they see her out of bed and changing her sheets. She greets them warmly and they can’t seem to keep the smiles off of their faces. Inviting them to eat with her, they sit in her room and catch up. Apparently she’s been out of it for almost two weeks, and Byleth tries to not feel in disappointed in herself, though the girls reassure her that everyone grieves differently and she can take all the time she needs.

Halfway through the meal, her eyes fall to the envelope resting on her bedside table. She still has no idea who wrote it and it bothers her.

“Professor?”

She must have zoned out of their conversation for too long. She turns back to Mercedes and Annette who are glancing between her and the curious envelope.

“Did either of you happen to write me a letter? Or drop one off?”

They both shake their heads no. Byleth retrieves the note from beside her and hands it to Annette to inspect.

“Hmm. I don’t recognize the writing and the way it’s written doesn’t sound like anyone that I know.” The red-head’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “And yet, they make it sound like they’re part of the Blue Lions. Mercy?”

The blonde’s gentle blue eyes skim over the letter, but she too seems perplexed.

“I can’t be sure, Professor. That letter doesn’t really sound like any of us.”

Byleth sighs. “I guess I’ll just have to do some investigating.”

* * *

For the first time in weeks, she’s excited. Ready to be back in the classroom and reunited with her class. She knows this is what her father would want. He would want her to get back on her feet and not sit around continuing to mourn him.

Glancing at the clock above her desk, she sees that it’s only just turning to seven. She has plenty of time to get ready and head to breakfast before class. She combs out her freshly washed hair and pulls on her usual ensemble before gathering her lesson books from her desk.

Double checking that she has everything she needs for the day; she slips out of her room for the first time in what feels like forever. The sun immediately greets her, along with the chirping of birds and the slight lull of students voices in the distance.

As she makes her way to the dining hall, the students she passes along the way send her small smiles and waves. She wasn’t sure what to expect, given how long she had been absent. Maybe pitying glances and fake smiles, but she’s relieved to see that things don’t feel all that different.

Crossing through the tea gardens behind the dining hall, she notices the dew on the grass and is again hit with the realization of how much she missed being outside of her room. Garreg Mach has always been beautiful, but today it seems especially so.

As she reaches the double doors to the dining hall she hesitates. _Everything is going to be just fine._ Taking a deep breath, she pushes them open, silently making her way into the bustling room. A few students glance her way curiously, but continue eating. Most people pay little attention to her at all, which immediately settles her nerves. Her eyes flit around the hall, before landing on a familiar shock of crimson hair.

Sylvain sits with Felix and Ingrid, talking animatedly, most likely about his latest relationship. Felix looks less than pleased at whatever the red-head has to say, rolling his eyes and turning to focus on his breakfast. Ingrid’s back is facing her, but Byleth can vividly picture her distractedly shoveling food into her mouth.

Sylvain must feel her gaze on him, because his eyes travel from Ingrid to her and she watches as they widen in surprise. She feels a smile pull at her lips and begins making her way toward their table.

Rising from his seat, he’s in front of her in seconds, ignoring the confused calls from Ingrid behind him. 

Byleth barely has time to react before he’s pulling her into his chest. His arms wrap around her and she practically sighs in contentment. It’s been so long since she’s had physical contact and it’s like he knows exactly what she is in need of, without ever having to voice it aloud.

“I’m glad to see you, Professor. I-we missed you.”

She can feel his voice as it rumbles in his chest against her cheek. He’s so warm and solid, and as much as she hates to, she should probably pull away before everyone starts talking.

Unraveling herself from his embrace, she keeps a light grip on his forearms, not yet ready to fully release him. She gazes up at him and he smiles down at her in return. A genuine smile, his eyes soft and warm.

“I’m glad to be back. I missed you too.”

She swears she feels his pulse jump under her fingertips and gazes at him curiously. His smile turns sheepish as his eyes dart away from her own. _That’s new._

“Sylvain, are- “

“Professor!”

Ingrid and Felix appear from behind Sylvain and Byleth drops her hold on him quickly, as though caught in a scandalous position. The other two don’t even notice and she finds herself embraced yet again, this time by Ingrid. The strong blonde gives her a firm squeeze before releasing her.

She glances at Felix, who’s lips quirk up at the corners. “The training grounds have been quite boring, Professor. No one knows how to fight.”

Never one for sappy words, Byleth nods at the swordsman, understanding this as his way of saying that he’s missed her too.

“Hey,” Sylvain exclaims indignantly. “I’ve trained with you every day, Felix.”

“And like I said, no one knows how to fight.”

Ingrid chuckles at their banter before turning back to the blunette. “Will you be starting lessons again soon?”

“Today actually. I was just going to grab some breakfast before class.”

The blonde’s green eyes light up. “Please sit with us, Professor.”

Byleth agrees, and after grabbing a plate, finds herself sitting with the three childhood friends. She doesn’t talk much, but watches them as they interact with each other. She takes in their choice of words and the ways in which they hold themselves, hoping to find something that will help her match one of them to the author of the letter. But by the end of breakfast, she finds herself even more confused, as nothing seems to stick.

Ingrid is too rigid in the way she structures her sentences, Felix too sharp, and Sylvain weaves flowery words into everything he says.

As she makes her way to the classroom, Byleth reminds herself that she still has three other students. Surely it has to be one of them.

* * *

The Blue Lions students all welcome her back like they just saw her yesterday. Dimitri warmly greets her, stumbling slightly over his words in his excitement, which she finds endearing. Dedue sends her a small smile, while Ashe cheerfully tells her that he’s excited to have her back. She feels so loved and appreciated and honestly overwhelmed in the best way possible.

Falling back into the rhythm of teaching is easy, and before she knows it the day is over and class is being dismissed. Her students say their goodbye’s as they file out, most likely heading to dinner.

She gathers her lesson books and makes her way to her room to drop them off before heading to dinner herself. As she opens the door to her room, her eyes catch on something white lying on the floor in front of her. Another envelope.

Practically dropping her books on the spot, she quickly shoves them onto her desk before retrieving the newest letter. Just like the first, the envelope is blank, and when she opens it, she finds yet another piece of folded parchment inside.

The penmanship is the same, still as beautiful and unfamiliar as ever.

_Professor,_

_I’m so glad you’re back with us again. I know myself and the others really missed not having you during our lessons. Please know that no matter how happy we are to see you back; we don’t want you to push yourself too hard._

_It can be easy to jump back into things headfirst and think that everything is fine and that you’re over the sadness, but as someone who has also experienced loss, I know how easily it can come back._

_Don’t be afraid to take time off again if you need it, and know that your cubs are always here for you._

_Take care,_

_A Friend_

So, the person the person writing the letters has also experienced loss. Well, that doesn’t help to narrow it down at all, as Byleth recalls that every member of her house has lost someone or something dear to them at one point or another. _Great._

* * *

Over the next few days, Byleth comes to the conclusion that the author can’t be Dimitri, Ashe, or Dedue. The way that Dimitri speaks is mirrored in his writing, if his latest essay is anything to go by. And Dedue’s penmanship is so sloppy and illegible at times, she can’t imagine him pulling off a switch this drastic.

She had thought it could be Ashe, given how thoughtful he can be and she ends up asking him about it. She knows Ashe is always honest with her and seems genuinely confused about the letters. Immediately she can tell that he isn’t the one that wrote them.

There has to be something that she is missing. Or she was too quick to brush aside one of her students. This person has to be disguising their penmanship or the way in which they write, because it just doesn’t fit any of her students.

Determined to find the person writing the letters, she assures herself that she will just have to try harder.

* * *

Another letter arrives over the weekend and this time she is less surprised. It comes with a knock on the door in the morning, just like the first one.

She shoots out of bed and races to open the door, only to find the walkway outside completely empty. Bending down to pick up the newest delivery, she opens it while standing in her doorway.

_Professor,_

_Congratulations on making it through your first week back. I hadn’t realized how truly lucky we were to have you as our professor until Seteth tried to step in for you. I wouldn’t wish a lecture on Garreg Mach history to my worst enemies._

Byleth chuckles. _So, they had a sense of humor._

_I’m so thankful you’re back. You’re one of the only people I feel that I can talk to, and even though you may not always understand, you’re a good listener and only want the best for your students._

_Thanks for everything that you do,_

_A Friend_

The blunette practically groans as she reaches the end of the letter. Why does the author feel the need to hide their identity?

She goes to shut her door and retreat back to bed when she hears a voice call out to her.

“Good morning, Professor!”

She sticks her head back outside of her room and is greeted by the sight of Sylvain sauntering toward her. He’s dressed casually in a white tunic and tan pants and his hair is lazily tousled, as though he has recently gotten out of bed.

“Oh, good morning, Sylvain. What are you doing up at this hour?”

He grins at her, his smile almost blinding to her sensitive eyes that are still adjusting to the morning light.

“I could ask you the same thing, Professor.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Someone knocked at my door and left something for me.”

Gesturing toward the letter in her hand, she watches his face carefully as his eyes flit down to it, before darting back up to her. He doesn’t give away any recognition, so she decides to push a little further.

“Sylvain, don’t you find it a little suspicious that around the same time that I get another letter, you happen to be wandering the grounds?”

His face remains indifferent. “Not really. I go on walks in the mornings every weekend. It’s nice to get out when no one is around, and it’s not like I’m the only one up at this hour. I saw Felix walking to the training grounds.”

She narrows her eyes at him, studying his face, but he just blinks back at her, golden eyes meeting her own confidently. She lets out a disappointed sigh, and for a moment she can’t tell whether it’s because the mystery still isn’t solved, or because it isn’t him that’s writing the letters. _Wait, what?_

“Fine,” she huffs. “Unlike you, I would like to go back to bed, since it’s still quite early. Maybe I’ll see you at breakfast later, Sylvain.”

He nods, shooting her a small smile. “I look forward to it, Professor.”

He turns to go, but thinks better of it for some reason, turning back to face her.

“By the way Professor, I really like the nighty. The lace is a nice touch.” He winks at her before sauntering away. Byleth gapes after his retreating figure. Slamming her door behind her in disbelief, she hardly recognizes her own embarrassment as she throws herself face-first into her bed.

She determines the author is not Sylvain. How can it be? He can barely go thirty seconds without throwing a line at a girl, let alone his own professor. No, she concludes. There’s no way he wouldn’t try to slip something cringey into a letter, anonymous or not.

The same feeling of disappointment from earlier settles in her stomach and she doesn’t understand it. Why would she want her house womanizer writing her letters anyway? She convinces herself she must just be tired and that another few hours of sleep will do her some good. With that thought as reassurance, she allows herself to drift off to sleep once again, the newest letter still clutched in her hand.

* * *

“Are you sure nothing seems familiar?”

Byleth is in the gardens with Mercedes, having tea with the ethereal blonde. Said blonde is reading through the most recent letter, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“This most recent letter seems the most personable yet, but even then, I’m really not sure. I’m sorry, Professor.”

The blunette sends her a reassuring smile. “It’s all right. I appreciate you trying all the same.”

“I will say though that it seems unlikely that the person writing these letters is a female. It’s not me and it’s not Annie, which only leaves Ingrid, and this just doesn’t seem like something she would write.”

Mercedes takes a sip of her tea – albinean berry blend – and hums in approval. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Professor. If anyone can find the person behind these letters, it’s you.”

As confident as Mercedes seems to be in her abilities, Byleth really isn’t so sure.

The next two weeks, Byleth finds a letter in front of her door every day. There seems to no longer be a pattern to when they are delivered, though more often than not it’s when she’s been away and returns to find that one has been slipped under her door in her absence.

This series of letters is all over the place in terms of topic. Some days he (Byleth is also convinced the author is a male), writes words of encouragement, others he talks about random things around the monastery, and sometimes he gets deep and personal. He never discloses too many details, but she can tell from his writing that life hasn’t always been easy for him and that’s there a lot of hurt buried within.

At this point Byleth is anxious to find the author, if for no other reason than to just give him a hug. He seems to know the days she’s feeling a little down, as those are the days where his letters are the most heartfelt and leave her feeling warm inside. And when he writes about his feelings, Byleth wants nothing more than to be able to talk to him in return and try to cheer him up.

She continues observing her students, but whoever is writing the letters is very good at hiding it and she fears she may never be able to figure it out.

* * *

She’s training with Felix one morning, her daily letter already received, when it slips out.

“Excuse me?” His blade pauses mid-air, and Byleth takes this opportunity to catch her breath.

“I asked if you had been writing any letters lately. Maybe for fun?”

Felix scoffs. “Professor, do I look like someone that writes letters for enjoyment?”

She shrugs her shoulders innocently and he rolls his eyes in return. “Isn’t there a better time to be asking about this?”

“I was just curious. I figured that wasn’t really your thing though.” She slumps a little in disappointment, and Felix must notice. He lowers his sword to his side, obviously sensing that her mind isn’t focused on training anymore.

“Want to tell me what this is about?”

Felix may not be a very sentimental person, but she does know that he is a good listener and that whether he knows it or not, he usually gives some decent advice.

“I’ve been receiving letters since my father’s death from an anonymous person. I was wondering if they were from you, since I seem to be missing something.”

His dark brows raise in surprise. “Why would you think it’s me?”

“The person writing them is from our house, but I’m struggling to figure out who it could be.”

“Do you have any of the letters with you now?”

She nods, retrieving the letter from her robe pocket and handing it to him.

His eyes race across the page, taking in the words written. Today’s letter wasn’t especially personal, mostly just talking about trivial things and asking if she’s been doing okay.

He glances up at her as he reads, though she’s not sure why.

When he’s reached the end, he hands it back to her, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing her with a look that makes her feel as though their roles have been reversed, him being the all-knowing professor and her the student.

“You really have no idea who that’s from?”

Byleth almost chokes on her spit. “You mean you do?”

His amber eyes look amused as they flit over her face and a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“I mean, I think it is fairly obvious. Out of everyone in the Blue Lions which one of us do you think has the time to pen you a letter every day, especially about something as pointless as the _weather_?” He quirks an eyebrow at her as he continues. “Ingrid and I spend our spare time training, the Boar has princely duties, Dedue is always with the Boar assisting in his princely duties, Ashe is constantly reading those books on Knighthood, Annette is studying in the library every chance she gets, and Mercedes is either baking or praying. That only leaves one person.”

Her mind runs through the points he makes and she feels her pulse pick up as each name gets crossed off. But it doesn’t make sense.

“I already asked him about it and he said no.”

Felix huffs in exasperation and Byleth feels immensely stupid for the second time in the past five minutes.

“It’s Sylvain, Professor. Do you really expect him to admit that he’s been writing you personal letters to cheer you up? He wouldn’t even admit to getting an A on his last exam.”

She thinks over his words and honestly, they make a lot of sense. Sylvain who is exceedingly smart, but hides it behind fake ignorance and laziness. Sylvain who hits on girls to keep up the façade of a being a skirt chaser even though his hearts not in it. Sylvain who’s incredibly sweet underneath all of the bitterness and resentment he holds toward his family and those that have done him wrong.

Felix must see the moment that it all clicks, because he nods at her, almost encouragingly.

“I think we’re done for the day, Felix. I have a lot to think about.”

And with that, she leaves the training grounds, the dark-haired swordsman staring after her.

* * *

Byleth returns to her room, as it’s the first place she thinks to come, but she’s too restless and nothing feels right. Her mind is all over the place, connecting pieces from the letters to her handsome student. She freezes. _Handsome?_

She knows he’s popular with the girls at Garreg Mach for multiple reasons, his appearance being one of them. But she herself has never really acknowledged that fact that he’s a very attractive man. Maybe she became immune to his charm because as his professor, she didn’t think it was appropriate.

But now after a moment of weakness, she can’t seem to put the walls back up. She thinks of all the times that he’s flirted with her, standing too close, or brushing his fingertips against hers. She thinks back to when he hugged her a few weeks ago after returning to teach. The ghost feeling of his firm body pressed against her makes heat gather in her stomach and she doesn’t want to acknowledge it.

Okay, fine. There are a lot of redeeming qualities about Sylvain, though there are also many less than pleasant aspects of his personality.

He can be extremely kind. She recalls his willingness to make Dedue feel welcome, regardless of his upbringing. Or when Annette told her of his helping her understand a new spell. Or helping Ingrid in the stables when her partner was sick and there was too much work for one person to do alone. He is never flashy about his kindness and willingness to help, but she knows there is a reason his classmates still love him despite his womanizing ways.

He’s protective of the rest in battle. She’s seen his eyes travel to each classmate to make sure they’re okay before moving forward. Jumping in front of Annette when an assassin was too quick for her, taking an arrow for Ingrid that could have been deadly to her Pegasus, and carrying Ashe to safety when he twisted his ankle.

And he’s smart. Brilliant really, if only he would show it. But she knows he doesn’t like having expectations placed on him, and so he puts up a façade of indifference toward anything that could be admirable about him. She thinks it’s a shame really, because there are a lot of things to admire about him.

Even so, he can be bitter and petty, and immature at times, but he cared enough to write these letters for her. And she loves him for it all the same. _Wait. She loves him?_

Byleth is thankful she’s in the comfort of her own room because she can’t imagine how flushed her face must be. It isn’t appropriate, given their stations, but it makes sense. Her heart feels a little more content when she admits to it.

Now, the problem remaining is how to convince him to admit to the letters. She’s already asked him, and that obviously didn’t work. She considers finding him now and admitting that she knows, but he doesn’t like to be cornered and it would most likely have the same result as last time.

Maybe she just has to wait for the next letter to come, and then she’ll strike. If she catches him in the act, how could he possibly deny it then?

* * *

She leaves her bedroom the next morning right as the sun begins to light up the sky. She hopes that today he’ll make a morning delivery, because when he does, she’ll be ready to catch him.

Rounding the corner of the dormitories, she leans again the stone wall, listening to the chirping of the birds, and then the waiting begins.

* * *

It’s almost seven and Byleth is convinced he isn’t coming. His past morning deliveries have been around 6:30 on weekdays and she concludes he may be waiting until tonight to drop off a letter.

Sighing in defeat, she begins to head back to her room when she hears approaching footsteps. She ducks back around the corner and out of sight, her heart picking up pace. The footsteps continue to get closer until she can tell he’s right in front of her door. He knocks once, and then she hears the scratch of parchment sliding against the wooden boards of the floor. She gives him the chance to take a few steps away from the door before rounding the corner.

His back is to her, but as she clears her throat to make him aware of her presence, she watches him stiffen. He slowly turns around, golden eyes meeting her own and breaks into his usual chipper charade.

“Good morning, Professor. How are you doing?”

His smile looks strained and she tries to fight the smirk working its way onto her face. She stares at him intensely as she responds.

“I’m doing well, Sylvain. Especially now that I know who’s responsible for those letters.”

He winces a bit at being called out and she lets her eyes soften. It’s not like she’s mad at him and at least he isn’t denying it this time. He runs a hand through his hair and his eyes focus on his shoes. She’s never seen him look so nervous.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I didn’t mean to be so secretive, but I could just tell you were having a really hard time and as someone who’s been through some crappy experiences I felt like I could relate and I didn’t think knowing my identity was that important so- “

She watches in amusement as he rambles, something he rarely ever does. Taking pity on him she approaches, which he doesn’t even seem to notice until she’s standing right in front of him.

“Sylvain, I’m not upset. In fact, I loved the letters.” His eyes shoot up to meet her own, and a look of disbelief crosses his handsome features.

“Really?”

Byleth nods. “Of course. How could I not? You helped me through probably the most painful time of my life. That first letter was what woke me up from the fog I was in. Without it, I might still be in my room feeling sorry for myself. Thank you for writing them. It was very sweet.”

His cheeks flush the smallest bit and Byleth chuckles at his obvious embarrassment. She’s never seen him like this and finds it refreshing to finally see their resident ladies-man on the recieving end of things.

“You’ve just done so much for us, Professor. You helped me through Miklan’s death even though I shut everyone out, and whenever I’ve been a complete dick to you, you still care. A lot of people in my life have never had the patience to deal with me the way that you do.”

Without a second thought, she wraps her arms around his waist, and he reacts instinctively, pulling her into his chest. He smells like bergamot and teakwood, and he’s as warm and solid as she remembers.

“I care about you a lot, Professor. Probably more than I should.” She feels his breath ruffled her hair as he leans down to murmur in her ear.

She cranes her neck to look up at him, and feels a small smile automatically make its way to her lips. “I care about you too, Sylvain. And I _know_ it’s more than I should.”

His eyes widen for a second and then he is leaning down to press his lips to hers. The kiss is chaste, but gentle, and his hand comes to rest along her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek. He’s her student and this is definitely not appropriate, but at this moment she just doesn’t care.

The man she loves is kissing her and he conveniently happens to be the one that wrote all of those lovely letters. She’ll worry about everything else later.

* * *

As they make their way to the dining hall for breakfast, Byleth remembers the reason she ran into him in the first place.

“So what was your letter about today?”

He chuckes in amusement. “Honestly, there wasn’t much to write about today. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

* * *

_Professor,_

_I hope your morning is off to a good start. The weather as always is incredible. The trees are just starting to turn and you can finally comfortably wear a jacket. This is my favorite time of year and if I’m not wrong, it is the perfect time of year to catch some Queen Loach. I’m not one for fishing, but Seteth mentioned it in one of his lectures._

_The clouds are quite big today, which brings some shade, but the sky is rather blue. It’s still quite early yet and I hear there may be a thunderstorm coming later today, but we’ll just have to see. I love when it rains. It gives me an excuse to stay inside and bundle up in my bed to read or take a nap. Do you like rainy days? You seem like someone that would._

_Anyway, it’s almost time for breakfast, so I should probably get going._

_See you soon,_

_A Friend_

Byleth rolls her eyes fondly. “Only you would be able to waste an entire sheet of parchment talking about the weather.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
